


Breaking Down

by WindwiseWords



Series: Xenogen City [32]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cleaning, Coping, Established Relationship, OCD, Panic Attacks, Romantic Friendship, mentions of interfacing, polishing, preening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 13:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8490793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindwiseWords/pseuds/WindwiseWords
Summary: Knock Out scratches his paint. Breakdown has to fix the mad doctor before he breaks more than his ego.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Perhaps playing a bit too much on Knock Out's paint job but I can totally see him using his body and beauty as a coping mechanism. The war took from everyone; if beauty is all he has left then why not cling to it? (Also yay for creative title!)

Simple things, simple minds, and simple stresses. Breakdown made his way back to Knock Out’s laboratory and found a chair to sit in, relaxing for a few moments. Shattering glassware didn’t startle him, but the agonized screech pulled him up from his relaxing to go find Knock Out.

The red hot rod held his arm and panted softly, and Breakdown instantly knew what was going on. “I’ll get the buffer.” And he left his partner on the floor to curl up and regain control of his venting.

When Breakdown got back, Knock Out hid under a medical berth and hissed at him. “Knock Out. I’ve seen you with worse scratches than what a little glass can do. Get over here.”

“Stay away!” The voice, usually steady and smooth, was uncharacteristically pitchy. Breakdown groaned with aggravation and reached under the berth, hauling his smaller partner out and dodging neatly a stab from a small energon prod.

Breakdown locked him against his chest and dragged the medic to his private quarters. Unlike other medics, he lived in a space just behind the medical bay, always ready to treat anyone. He didn’t like to sleep away from his ward, or charges, lest he miss something critical. Not to mention he could guard them.

Breakdown dropped him unceremoniously onto the large berth and push his chest down forcefully. “Hold the frag still.” He turned the buffer on and worked on Knock Out’s arm, at least as best he could with the medic flailing about and demanding to be let go. If he let go, Knock Out would hide and sulk for _days_ over the scratch.

Rung called it OCD, mixed with a body image disorder. Knock Out put so much reliance on his looks and his skill that it became all that made him worthy in his own eyes. Breakdown always figured it was just Knock Out’s way of coping with the war. Along with his hobby of dissecting living bots.

When the scratch disappeared he continued on to buff the rest of his partner to a glossy shine. Easier to do in vehicle mode but soon he had Knock Out purring and writhing under the machine, like a cat being pet just the right way. Rung medicated a lot of bots but this was the best way to deal with whatever Knock Out’s real problems were, at least when they arose.

The only portions Breakdown avoided were areas that may set Knock Out off into one of his ‘moods,’ also known as when Knock Out wanted to tap some aft. Breakdown wasn’t in the mood to deal with that, and though it never seemed like it Knock Out’s ego broke after each scratch. He could go after anyone, even Whirl or Vortex. And that ended with more scratches, more panicking if he woke up before Breakdown could fix his paint and body of dents.

“There. All shiny.” He picked up one of many mirrors scattered about, showing off his work to a very relaxed Knock Out. The Mad Doctor considered the work and smirked at Breakdown, the only thank you he ever got. But Breakdown smirked back, pleased that Knock Out was pleased. As he turned to go, sharp claws caught into a seam and Breakdown caught the meaning: stay here.

With a heavy sigh and fake reluctance Breakdown crawled into the berth and sat up. “I’m reading your data pad then.” Knock Out always had some interesting disease or new paint color, even races and various other things to keep Breakdown occupied. To call it cuddling would be an overstatement, but it was as close as they got unless things got heated. Knock Out pressed his back against his partner’s side and sighed, resting into a light recharge to doze off the panic. Breakdown glanced at him, pausing to pull a sheet over the red form before settling into an article on some horrid human disease.


End file.
